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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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izzy's playlists!
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YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Love Begins
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@esotolkienweek
Helpful Links
Everything in one place for ease of viewing!
Event Guidelines
2026 Prompts
2025 Ao3 Collection
2 months from today: Esoteric Tolkien Week!
Ooh, you got plany of time! Simply a gentle bounce upon the dash to remind anyone interested in magic, weirdness, and sundry oddities that Esoteric Tolkien Week, your one and only fandom event for celebrating all of the above in Arda and beyond, will be kicking off for the second year on July 13th, 2026 and lasting until July 19th (although later submissions are welcome).
Whether you want to get a head start on dreaming up your wild masterpiece or simply dabble your toes:
Optional prompt list here
Non-optional event guidelines here
An ao3 collection for anyone posting there is forthcoming, probably opening around the beginning of July. If you already have something finished and want to share it as part of the event, we ask for organization's sake that you hold off for the moment rather than adding it to the 2025 collection.
That's about it for now! As always, feel free to make any pertinent inquiries via the askbox, through messages, or in the replies to any post tagged "housekeeping."
Looking forward to seeing all your wonderful works in two months. Onwards to strangenesses great and small!
— mod @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
(Banner artwork by Catherine Karina Chmiel)
2026 Esoteric Tolkien Week prompts have landed! As before, each day is composed of a place, an action, and an object—feel free to use some, all, or none as you see fit; they are inspirational, not obligatory. Further event guidelines can be found here for your delectation as you begin your idea-brewing process. And as always, feel free to reach out with any questions, concerns, or world-altering secrets in the meantime.
Text version under the cut:
Well, look who it is...
That's right, Esoteric Tolkien Week, your center for all things strange, mystical, inexplicable, and unfathomed in Arda and beyond, is back for round two! We are open to all types and ratings of fanwork, and are eager to welcome returners and new faces alike. A few bits of useful tattle for the moment:
Further information and event guidelines can be found here
Prompts will be released by the end of the month (March 31st, 2026)
Event planned to run July 13th - 19th, 2026
An ao3 collection will open closer to the run date—if you have any work hanging around that you'd like to submit now, or just want to get inspired, you can find the small but mighty 2025 collection here
And that's about it for now! Feel free to jump in the askbox with any burning questions you come up with in the meantime, or any other words that need sharing.
Looking forward to creating with you again in this second lap of ours 💫 Welcome, or welcome back.
— mod @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
(Banner artwork by Frédéric Bennett)
very belated entry to @esotolkienweek for the prompt "forest"
For this I chose the fate of Húrin and Morwen from the Book of Lost Tales, one of the oldest versions of the children of Húrin. Here they’re known as Úrin and Mavwin.
Esoteric Tolkien Week - Books and Maps
@esotolkienweek
Winding down, and thanks
And so the very first Esoteric Tolkien Week comes to an end. We are so grateful to everyone who participated, whether by submitting your (awesome!) creations or supporting and reblogging from those who did. This is the very first event that I've run, and I'm being entirely sincere when I say that each one of your contributions means the world to me. I'm just the mod—the real work is done by all of you, and I couldn't be happier to have been the beneficiary of your skills and imagination.
Logistics
Late submissions are welcome at any time—please just use the tag and @ this blog in the post body so we don't miss your work
The ao3 collection will remain open for anyone who wants to crosspost or add new pieces
Any feedback on what you liked or what didn't work for you this past week is appreciated, so feel free to drop us a line in the replies or via the askbox! We plan to run this event next year, all things permitting, so we want to make it the best it can be :)
Once again, thank you all so very much for your creativity, enthusiasm, and patience as we work out our muddles. If you enjoyed this event and are slavering for more of my dubious organizational skills, consider checking out the second product of my overweening hubris, Tolkien Siblings Week, which will run for the first time this November!
♡♡ — mod @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
(Banner artwork by Anke Eißmann)
↳ @esotolkienweek Day 7: Songs and Legends
Maglor the mighty singer, whose voice was heard far over land and sea; Maglor The second son of Fëanor, a great singer and minstrel.
↳ @esotolkienweek Day one: Mountains
The chief citadel of Maedhros was upon the Hill of Himring, the Ever-cold; and that was wide-shouldered, bare of trees, and flat upon its summit, surrounded by many lesser hills.
(I'm still in doubt if Himring counts as a mountain?! In any case, I totally see Himring as the Andes, so let's say it is in my headcanons✨️ Also, sorry for posting everything out of order😭)
↳ @esotolkienweek Day 3: Forests
Can't believe I'm late again, but here it is! My first contribution for this event. As a part of my "Tolkien, but make it latino" series, I chose São Tomé das Letras to represent a part of forests in Tolkien world!
✦|✦|✦|✦|✦
Over Waters Wide and Grey
Boromir | G | 0.8k | @esotolkienweek 2025 day 4: rivers and vessels | AO3
A shattering cry pierced the paths of the wind. Clear and sharp, like a call echoing down the mountainsides, it rent the wind with its mighty voice.
It is the horn of Gondor, the lesser winds murmured, circling low to listen. It is the captain. He is outnumbered and nearly overcome. Who will aid him?
The south wind, listening, sped the horn’s voice over the grey waters of the Anduin and into the wide, empty lands about it, into the running grasses of the Wold and the withered slopes of the Brown Lands, into the tamarisk and terebinth gardens of Ithilien and the watch in the wilderness upon Mordor. In the fields of the Wold, rabbits pricked their ears and twitched their whiskers; loping wolves stopped and sniffed the air, scenting death. Even to the walls of Minas Tirith did the horn’s voice rush, falling and breaking like the tide upon the white stones of the Tower of the Guard.
The captain calls for aid, the winds pleaded. Will none aid him? Will none answer his cry?
But there came no answer from the empty lands about, and the horn fell silent.
Dead, the winds whispered, sorrowing. The captain is dead. None came to aid him.
The land cried out in answer, rock and turf and tree and root: Who now shall guard us? Who shall keep us from the Marrer? Shall all become barren and ruined? Ruin, ruin shall be our end!
The Windlord wheeled high overhead, listening to the weeping of the wind as it passed beneath his wings and turning his keen eye to the river snaking beneath him. A slender boat slipped into the water, laden with swords and cloven helms. A man slept unwaking in the midst of them, marked with many wounds, his hands crossed over his breast, a broken sword and cloven horn laid upon his knees. His hair lay like raven feathers over his shoulders, and a belt of golden leaves gleamed at his waist, glinting beneath the sun.
The Windlord rose upon the currents and winged away, crying in the tongue of eagles: The captain has fallen. Harry any who would bring dishonor upon him. As he has guarded you, guard him. The lesser eagles took up the cry, and the hawks, listening, cried out to the falcons. A flock of many birds rose and wheeled over the river, a winged guard to guard his passage, their sharp eyes trained upon the lands about for any who would hinder the last journey of the captain.
The north wind, drawing away from the boat so that it might pass over the falls unhampered, rose to a howl and wept. And the lesser winds, listening, took up its lament: The captain has fallen. Make safe his way.
The west wind went keening through the reeds of the Anduin and the grasses of the Mark, and the grasses murmured in their rustling voices, the news passing amongst them in a rippling wave. Once he walked here beneath moonlight and starlight, but now no more shall he roam. Only his memory shall walk here, fading with the dawn.
Field mice and hares pricked their ears, catching the whispers of the grasses as they bent in grief, and word passed among the small creatures, and then to the great creatures. Who now shall protect us? Who shall keep us from the wrath of Mordor?
The south wind ran light-footed upon the river, guiding the boat gently upon the waters, over fall and foaming pool, borne tenderly upon the shoulders of the river. Through marsh and fen, through fields and hills, the boat slipped silent as the footfalls of the moon as it rode pale and slender overhead. Reeds dragged clutching at its sides, and fish slipped silver through the shadows in its wake like mailed guards.
No more shall he come with the dawn, no more to guard the Tower of the Sun.
Through the ruined city he passed, a grey dream glimmering beneath the moonlight. Deep he waded but he did not founder, for the south wind cradled him in its arms and drew him gently past. Over waters wide and swift the wind bore him, deep treading, swift pacing, and he passed silent through the sleeping world of Men, a dreamer unwaking. The river deepened and splintered and the sea washed at its feet, and the cries of gulls came on the wings of the wind, and the winds gathered and blew.
And under the light of the watchful stars, Boromir, son of Denethor, passed into the fathomless embrace of the sea.
The River Calling (for Esotolkien Week 2025, Day 4)
She could hear them sometimes still - River Woman’s River Daughters calling, calling, calling…
In the winter the snow lay thickly over everything like a heavy shroud and the river slowed, its edges iced, its waters frigid. And she sat frigid too in the house, in the house that her husband built. The fire in the hearth kept the vessels of water from freezing, but she still slowed with the cold, still felt the winter sleep creep upon her, just as she had in the days before - nay, the years before - nay, the ages before…
When she dozed she heard their voices, drifting from the river, through the trees, over the snow, carried, ghost-like, on the chill air. They were singing a low and mournful song. She felt her ears prick and an urge to sing back, but Tom was here now and he was whistling and his whistling eclipsed their voices, slowly moving in and blocking them out, like the moon covering over the sun…
In the summer the thunderstorms came. Every evening they came, every evening for three weeks. The lightning flashing so bright it lit up the sky, the thunder so loud you could feel it in your bones. Then the downpour - coming down harder than ever. She stepped over the threshold, onto the mossy floor so full with water already that it gushed over. Already little rivulets of water were forming and flowing downhill towards the river…
Then again the River Daughters’ calling, calling, calling. But not silently this time - fiercely. Crying out so fiercely their voices rivaled the thunder: Sister, we miss you! Bombadil, we curse you! Return her, return, return!
The thunder clapped, the lightning tore apart the sky, the wind shook the trees so hard their leaves were ripped loose and flew madly through the squall. And the rain came down so hard. Goldberry felt herself loosen. She felt a great urge to spill to the ground and flow to the river. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, then she shaped her mouth to call out -
But then there was Tom and he was singing, “There’s my pretty lady! Into the house with thee! Never mind the ruckus from that weedy, shady creek. Come my pretty little lady - back into the house with me!"
-Sakurashakedown
@esotolkienweek
"But Ulmo coming up the river laid a deep sleep upon them and heavy dreams; and the trouble of the dreams remained after they awoke, but neither said aught to the other, for their memory was not clear, and each believed that Ulmo had sent a message to him alone. But unquiet was upon them ever after, and doubt of what should befall, and they wandered often alone in untrodden lands, seeking far and wide for places of hidden strength; for it seemed to each that he was bidden to prepare for a day of evil, and to establish a retreat, lest Morgoth should burst from Angband and overthrow the armies of the North." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Of the Return of the Noldor"
@esotolkienweek day 4: lakes & rivers, sleep ⇢ FINROD & TURGON BY AELIN-UIAL
[ID: a picspam made up of 12 images in shades of brown, blue, and green.
1: Branches over water / 2: A cave with column-like mineral formations and a shallow pool of water in the center. Light comes in from an unseen opening in the ceiling / 3: Brown and green italicized serif text on a black background reads "And when again thirty years had passed, Turgon son of Fingolfin left Nevrast where he dwelt and sought out Finrod his friend upon the island of Tol Sirion, and they journeyed southward along the river," / 4: A person's hand brushing the surface of green water. They have dark brown skin / 5: Flowers bending down to touch rippling water / 6: A starry night sky, with the brown clouds of a nebula or galaxy / 7: A duck swimming in a shallow, sunlit stream / 8: The lower half of Kenyette Barnes's face. She has brown skin and long golden-brown hair in dreadlocks / 9: White buildings against a pale blue sky / 10: Same format as Image 3, but the text reads "being weary for a while of the northern mountains; and as they journeyed night came upon them beyond the Meres of Twilight beside the waters of Sirion, and they slept upon his banks beneath the summer stars." / 11: The tree-lined shore of a river seen through mist / 12: Steep mountain peaks covered in snow //End ID]
@esotolkienweek
Early contribution for Day 4 (Lakes & Rivers).
Apologies, but I expect not to be able to post later during the week.
"Thus it chanced in the waning of the year that Aredhel came to the south of Himlad, and passed over Celon; and before she was aware she was enmeshed in Nan Elmoth. In that wood in ages past Melian walked in the twilight of Middle-earth when the trees were young, and enchantment lay upon it still. But now the trees of Nan Elmoth were the tallest and darkest in all Beleriand, and there the sun never came; and there Eöl dwelt, who was named the Dark Elf." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Of Maeglin"
@esotolkienweek day 3: forests, get lost ⇢ AREDHEL IN NAN ELMOTH
[ID: a moodboard made up of nine images in shades of cool green, mostly dark in hue.
1: A misty forest, the floor covered in green moss / 2: A painting of a bow and quiver of arrows lying on the ground / 3: A crescent moon and bright star or planet between trees / 4: The soaring ceiling of a cave. Uneven light shows hanging mineral formations / 5: South sudanese-austrailian model Adut Akech lying down as if collapsed in a long, pale pink dress. Green draperies surround her / 6: Small white flowers blooming amid shrubbery / 7: A stone torii gate, grown over with moss and surrounded by trees / 8: A painting of a deer surrounded by three white hounds. Although all looks peaceful, the dogs are attacking the deer, whose expression is calm and resigned / 9: Adut Akech, this time wearing a green dress with long puffy sleeves and sequins on the front, and covered with a netted veil. She has dark brown skin and short hair, and looks at the viewer with a neutral, serious expression //End ID]
Merry outside of Time - An Esoteric Tolkien Week Fic 🌌🥀
@esotolkienweek Day 3 - Forests, Crowns, and Get lost... Or found?
A fae!reader story where the cosmos opens itself to reveal a different dimension to a certain hobbit, and as he stands on the boundary between Matter and Beyond, he is tasked with choosing between the realm of Time and the realm of Eternity.
Length: 2k
Note: I was inspired by Lord Dunsany's "King of Elfland's Daughter" for this piece. I wanted to tackle some sort of spiritual mysticism even beyond what we see in LOTR's Middle-Earth, and also contribute to this incredibly cool event, so I'm glad (and shy) to post this for Day 3! I'm linking the AO3 page in case anyone would like to drop by over there 💙
I also made a fey/elfin themed playlist for this. Story under the cut!
"At the bidding of Turgon Círdan built seven swift ships, and they sailed out into the West; but no tidings of them came ever back to Balar, save of one, and the last. The mariners of that ship toiled long in the sea, and returning at last in despair they foundered in a great storm within sight of the coasts of Middle-earth; but one of them was saved by Ulmo from the wrath of Ossë, and the waves bore him up, and cast him ashore in Nevrast. His name was Voronwë; and he was one of those that Turgon sent forth as messengers from Gondolin." - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, "Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad"
@esotolkienweek day 2: seas, voyage ⇢ TURGON'S EMBASSIES TO VALINOR
[J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales // William Cowper, "The Castaway" // J.M.W Turner, "Snow Storm - Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth" // William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night // J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales // Ivan Aivazovsky, "The Wave" // William Shakespeare, The Tempest // Norman Lindsay, "Shipwreck with Sirens" // J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales, // Gordon Lightfoot, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" // J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales // Théodore Gericault, "The Wreck"]